


Transcendental

by Nixxi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Canon Disabled Character, Kissing, M/M, Mild Gore, Porn with Feelings, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixxi/pseuds/Nixxi
Summary: “Those hunters…” Ignis murmurs.“Don’t,” Gladio says.Ignis tries again: “We could have been…”“No. I don’t wanna think about it.”But it’s impossible not to. Ignis’s hands find his face, and then his lips follow, kissing Gladio’s hair and forehead and nose, until Gladio lifts his head to meet his mouth. It ain’t gentle or sweet. They made it through tonight, but they might not next time. Every hunt is a gamble with their lives, and Ignis kisses him like the next card in their deck is a losing draw.After a near-death experience, Gladio and Ignis give each other what they need.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 11
Kudos: 90





	Transcendental

They return to Lestallum singed, bruised, and shaken, but alive.

Gladio peels off his blood-soaked clothes the minute he gets through the front door of their rented one-room apartment, letting them plop wetly on the linoleum floor. He helps Ignis do the same. His boots squelch when Gladio pulls them off; the socks underneath are stained a deep crimson. There’s no point in washing them. They’re beyond saving. Gladio leaves them lying on the floor. He’ll deal with them in the morning, when he’s not tired in his soul. 

They get in the shower together and lean on each other under the lukewarm spray. Neither of ‘em says anything; Gladio’s thinking about his fellow hunters who got blown sky high by the galvanades that ambushed their party outside Old Lestallum tonight. He’s thinking about how Ignis could’ve just as easily been one of ‘em, his brain and bone splattered all over Gladio’s fatigues.

He’s grateful that ain’t the case.

Gladio soaps Ignis up, washing the blood of the dead off of him until he’s wearing nothing but his own scarred skin. Ignis returns the favour for Gladio. After, they towel each other down and climb into bed naked. They lie there quietly, Gladio with his head on Ignis’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as Ignis’s fingers trail absently up and down his spine. The ancient air conditioning unit in the window comes to life, rattling like bones in a fortune-teller’s cup.

Death is everywhere these days. Gladio made peace with his own mortality a long time ago, but he can’t come to terms with the same for Ignis. He ain’t afraid to die—he’s afraid of what he could lose. Every hunt they survive shines a little more light on this truth. 

“Those hunters…” Ignis murmurs.

“Don’t,” Gladio says. 

Ignis tries again: “We could have been…”

“No. I don’t wanna think about it.”

But it’s impossible not to. Ignis’s hands find his face, and then his lips follow, kissing Gladio’s hair and forehead and nose, until Gladio lifts his head to meet his mouth. It ain’t gentle or sweet. They made it through tonight, but they might not next time. Every hunt is a gamble with their lives, and Ignis kisses him like the next card in their deck is a losing draw, his tongue plundering Gladio’s mouth as his hands slide into Gladio’s hair and _grab_ , rough and demanding. 

Every nerve in Gladio’s body’s burns with need. He holds Ignis close, rolling on top of him as they devour each other’s mouths, their skin sticking together with the residual dampness of their shower. He’s hard. So’s Ignis. Gladio wants to be inside him so bad he can’t think straight. He wants to make Ignis feel so good, so bright and vibrant and alive, that death will stay at bay for just a little while longer. 

“Can you…?” Ignis starts to say, and Gladio nods, kissing him again, already knowing what he’s askin’ for.

He reaches for the little jar of sylleblossom seed oil they keep in their bedside drawer. They ran out of real lube a long time ago; same with condoms. As it stands, this oil’s a precious commodity, and there’s just enough left for what they’re about to do here. Just enough left to open Ignis up for him, to let Gladio in, to bring them as close as two people can be. They sigh in unison when Gladio’s hips meet Ignis’s ass. Like they’re finally back where they belong. Like as long as they’re doing this, what happened to those hunters can never happen to them. 

Slowly, Gladio makes love to him, trailing his lips over Ignis’s mouth and cheeks and throat, then back again, restlessly, his hips falling into a steady, driving rhythm. He breathes in, smelling the soap on Ignis’s skin. He lets it out again in a shudder, watching the signs of pleasure on Ignis’s face as Gladio moves within him. A parting of his lips. A twitch of his forehead. A half-lidded eye that slides shut as Ignis seeks Gladio’s mouth again, but doesn’t quite find it, hovering just out of reach. 

Gladio doesn’t try to bridge the gap. He’s too enraptured by the look of bliss Ignis wears, like Gladio’s cock is transporting him somewhere beyond this bed, beyond this apartment, beyond this world. Gladio gets it, ’cause fucking Ignis transcends the physical. When Gladio’s inside him, he’s touching the spark that makes Ignis be, the flame that binds them together. 

Ignis’s slides his hands up Gladio’s chest and down again, fingers grazing over his nipples. “Gladio…” he whispers.

He can’t resist anymore. Gladio kisses his scarred lips, grunting as Ignis clenches around him, as Ignis’s arms hold him tight, as they move together in a dance they’ve practiced a thousand times before. Ignis’s cock rubs between their bellies. Gladio would reach down to stroke it, but there’s no room for his hand, and besides, he doesn’t wanna let go. The friction their bodies are making will have to be enough. They’re both breathing hard, their faces just inches apart, too focused on reaching the stratosphere to do much more than cling to each other.

“Don’t stop,” Ignis begs against his lips. 

Gladio thrusts into him, one last time, and orgasm flings him into the ether, bathing him in brilliant pleasure. He buries his face in Ignis’s neck and groans through clenched teeth as it surges over him, in wave after ferocious wave, drowning him in everything he feels for this man. Distantly, he registers Ignis shaking under him and crying out, fingernails digging into Gladio’s shoulders. Something warm and wet spurts onto Gladio’s belly. 

The waves come gentler now, bringing Gladio back down to earth. He finds himself panting in Ignis’s arms, face pressed to his sweaty throat. Ignis lies still, almost boneless, breathing hard himself. Gladio finds the strength to lift himself up so Ignis can unfold from beneath him. They settle back down next to each other, Gladio on his front with his arm over Ignis, and Ignis curled up facing him.

“All right?” Ignis murmurs.

Gladio nods drowsily, incapable of words. The air conditioner rattles away, but the air’s still humid, like a heavy blanket on his skin. Ignis trails his fingers through Gladio’s hair, presses a soft kiss to his temple. Gladio turns his head to meet his lips, returning his affection with a lazy kiss of his own, before lays his head back down on the pillow and closes his eyes. Sated, at peace, he feels himself start to drift off. 

They may be singed, bruised, and shaken. But they’re together.

They’re alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to AtropaAzraelle for giving this a beta and offering some suggestions. Comments are ♡. Stay safe out there!


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